Zero Memory
by Dr Megalomania
Summary: Endless Reflection Challenge (Submission): Heero remembers something. Zero helps.


**Disclaimer** : You know the score.

 **Rating** : PG

 **Notes** : For the Endless Reflection Challenge, I wanted to do something off the cuff. Not so fun, but definitely something that's been rattling around in my head.

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 **Zero Memory**

 **By Doctor Megalomania**

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There were times when Heero could hear Zero whispering.

Sometimes he would be focusing on something hard and he could hear the machine working through calculations. His therapist thought that it was an auditory hallucination. Heero thought it was real enough sometimes to go with it. Sometimes (most of the time) the odds Zero calculated were accurate.

He survived the war thanks to those whispers. He survived what happened next. Ten years later when Zero started talking in the back of his head, he stopped and listened.

Nobody really seemed to understand it. How he'd stand, utterly still, in the middle of a fire fight. Burst into motion, dodging bullets and debris as if he'd already been through the fight twice. Partners did not always understand this, and transferred out when it got unsettling. He was given warnings but the warnings were just for show. Nobody higher up wanted to lose an agent so precise in his movements, his attention to detail. So focused. There were very few agents that could match Heero for clearing cases.

Zero helped.

It was a comfort every day.

It was the thing that kept him going every single day. Right up to the moment it whispered:

 _1% risk of failure. 10% no clear outcome. 79% chance of success._

He blinked and slowly put the file down. He was in his office, not a fire fight. He glanced over to Wufei's desk – lights were out, Wufei must have left an hour ago. The chair in front of his desk scrapped the floor as it was pulled back. He stared as Duo Maxwell sat down. He stared at the fifteen year old kid. Duo Maxwell propped bony elbows on his desk and sucked on a tooth before nodding slowly.

"One per cent risk of failure. Ten percent no clear outcome. Seventy-nine per cent chance of success? They are not bad odds. I'd taken 'em."

He knew it was pointless to converse, but he found himself talking anyway. "This is a hallucination."

"Yup." Duo Maxwell replied, tipping back the same hat he had when Heero first saw him. The hallucination ran a hand through dirty brown bangs. Heero blinked, looked at the coffee he'd been drinking.

"I need to phone my therapist." Heero reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The hallucinations are getting worse.

"Not really. Just you needed a clearer interface."

"What?" Heero opened his eyes and stared at Duo Maxwell.

"You needed a clearer interface. The situation warrants …" The fifteen year-old tilted his head, "More interpretation." The eyes were not quite right, Heero wondered if that was his memory. He thought they were bluer. "Don't get distracted by the interface. It just seemed like a good idea."

"The interface?"

"Me." Duo Maxwell smiled. "I'm just here to help you work it out. That one percent is a biggy. Nobody likes a chance of failure."

"Failure at what?"

Duo Maxwell smiled. "You wanted to live. Remember?"

"I am living."

Duo Maxwell smiled wider. "Nope."

"What do you call it?"

"Surviving." Duo Maxwell tilted his head the other way. "So, you've been calculating some odds."

" _I'm_ calculating?"

Duo Maxwell nodded. "Of course you are. You're doing all of this." The hallucination looked around as if it were the first time he was there. "You've always done all of this. I'm just an interface to help you because you've been struggling."

Heero put his pen down and picked his coffee up. "So what has Zero been?"

"The ZERO system has always been there, it was a combat analysis and tactical suggestions system. It spent a long time elbow deep in your brain." Duo Maxwell smiled. "Naturally, you're going to have some after effects. These auditory and visual hallucinations are a part of those after effects. You know that."

"So why are you here?"

"Interesting question. Why are the after effects of your interactions with the ZERO system taking the format of a long lost friend from a war that ended 10 years ago?"

Heero took a sip. "I suppose because I was thinking about him."

"You were," Bony elbows lent on his desk again. Duo Maxwell cupped his hands and rested his chin on them. "It's been a while, Heero. Ten years! Why think about this lanky kid you haven't seen since the end of the war?"

He didn't mean to, but Heero's eyes drifted to a small metal fragment. It was the only thing he had left of his Gundam. He kept it on his desk by the lamp. It was smooth now, where once it had been sharp. He reached out and picked it up. He ran a thumb over the even surface.

 _One percent failure, eight percent uncertainty. Eighty one percent success._

"Why did the odds change?" Heero looked up to see the same smile on Duo Maxwell's face. He was surprised it took him so long. The smile was precisely the same smile from that first moment Heero saw Duo on a screen. "I've been thinking about Duo. Wondering where he was. How he is."

"Yes."

"I've missed him." Heero blinked. "I was thinking about contacting him." He flipped the fragment in his fingers. "I haven't heard from him for a while."

"That's why you've got a one percent failure chance. You might not get through."

"Uncertainty?"

"You might contact him but he might not respond."

"Success?"

"You get through and he wants to talk to you."

"So why are the odds changing?"

"Because you're talking to me first." The hallucination pulled the hat forward to it covered the too violet eyes. "Better chance of success if you run through the simulation first."

"Simulation? I'm practicing on a memory…"

"Hey Heero…" The voice was softer, more mature now. The fifteen year old was still. "Been a while… What are you going to do if I'm dead?"

"Dead?" Heero's hand clenched hard around the fragment, and he looked down in surprise. "He's not… He can't be…"

"You're right." The hallucination smiled. "He's not. You'd know."

Heero breathed out slowly. "He may not want contact."

"There is an eight percent chance of that."

"Why hasn't he contacted me?"

"Why haven't you contacted him?" Duo Maxwell countered quickly.

Heero felt slow, unable to answer as he thought of all the times in the last ten years he could have contacted Pilot 02. "It was… unnecessary."

"What makes you want to contact him now then?"

"That came to him quickly. Because I miss him. Because I miss you."

The hallucination smiled that same sad smile Duo once gave him. "I'm gone, Heero. You lost me in the blasts."

"Duo's a survivor." Heero shook his head, "Duo Maxwell isn't gone." He reached out and brought his surface computer to life. Flicking through various links and files, he found the information he needed. He let his fingers hoover over a final button. Glancing up at the hallucination, he rallied his courage and pressed the connection.

"Hey buddy…" The hallucination nodded, "Ninety-five percent. It's a really good number."

It took three rings, but a messy head shifted into view. There was a brief moment where the head lolled.

Heero realised a moment too late that it was 4am on L2.

The man on the other side grunted. One very violet eye opened, then closed while the other opened. Eventually the eyes opened together at the same time, and then focused. An older Duo Maxwell stared at him. There was a blink; another and then the surprise came.

"Heero?" The voice was deeper but still had the same vague amusement. "Man, this is crazy… I was just—"

"Thinking about me? I was just thinking about you." He leant forward, "I… uh, I… Almost died recently… And, I… uh…"

"Didn't want to go without saying goodbye to an old buddy?" Duo moved out of the view for a moment, and then held up a set of paperwork. Shuttle tickets. "You know, I recently had a brush myself… and I'm coming planet-side."

"Need a place to stay?"

"I was gonna get around to it."

"Don't bother."

"Thanks man." Duo yawned. "Man, this is so mad. I mean… there was what, like one percent chance of this …?"

Heero shook his head, "No… There was always a ninety-five percent chance of success. It's us."

"Huh." Duo yawned again, and nodded. A smile breaking out. "Ninety-five, huh? It's a good number."

Heero smiled back. "Look, it's late – and I've woken you."

"Nah, I'll be back out like a light—"

"-I remember. But what I was going to say… was that this is my work line." His fingers fluttered over the surface, "And this is my updated contact card."

Duo nodded, and reciprocated. "Here's mine."

"Duo… I missed you."

There was a soft chuckle. "I missed you too … Head-Heero was getting a bit insistent."

"Head-Heero?"

"Uh… My Shrink thinks that the Zero system is still—"

"-elbow deep in your brain?"

"You too?"

"Yes." Heero smiled and looked away. "Head-Heero, is he about fifteen?"

"You were so scrawny, man! I don't even know how you survived!"

Heero smiled, "I think I know how. I just wanted to live."


End file.
